Scapegoats
by angelcakes19
Summary: Starscream, while in the Autobot brig, confides in a slightly depressed Prowl why he tries to usurp Megatron and what he truly believes being an SIC means. Warning- Dark Jazz. Mild slash/hinted pairings- P/J, M/SS and one-sided SS/P.


_Author's Notes- Hello all. This fic is about Starscream telling Prowl what he believes being a second is and the r__epercussions this has on them both, Jazz and Megatron. _

_Warnings- Violence, hinted slash (includes kissing) and Transformer swearing. Dark-Jazz._

_Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters._

_Bold- Comm link._

_Italics- Memories/thoughts._

_Pairings (very mild, slightly implied)- Prowl/Jazz. Megatron/Starscream. One-sided Starscream/Prowl._

_Unbetaed._

_All mistakes are my own._

_Hope you all enjoy it._

* * *

Scapegoats

Prowl stormed into the brig, optic fluid streaming down his faceplates as he sought out his usual hiding spot. It was right in the back and out of sight, far away from where the others would expect to find him, a crevice that allowed his doorwings to fit in comfortably while he calmed himself down and his normal logical self reclaimed control.

_He could have got Bumblebee killed!_

_I always thought there was something off about him; perhaps he really __**is **__a Decepticon spy…_

_How could Prime trust him?_

Dashing his servo harshly across his faceplates, the SIC froze midway down the central pathway when the only being in the entirety of the cells gave a light cough to remind the Praxian of his presence.

Closely his optics, Prowl shuddered violently, all manner of self-reprimands running though his advanced processor for allowing himself to forget he wouldn't be alone, and twisted around to face his Decepticon counterpart.

Starscream stared at him analytically, his helm resting on his shoulder armour in thought before murmuring, 'so you aren't really like Soundwave after all.'

Bristling, assuming the Seeker was insulting him in some way, Prowl's doorwings rose defensively as he openly glared at one of the mechs who had helped to destroy his home city.

Registering the gesture as a Seeker-like one of aggression, Starscream raised his servos pacifyingly with only the light smirk on his faceplates damaging the effort.

Prowl's pedes, once the Autobot managed to tear his gaze away from the blood red wickedly sparkling orbs, started unsteadily back towards the entrance. He would have to claim sanctuary in his office, as public as it often seemed to be.

'Wait,' the Seeker came right up to the glittering energy bars.

Against his better judgment-

_Dirty 'con._

-Prowl obligingly paused and waited patiently for Starscream to speak, motioning with his servo for the Decepticon to continue.

The Air Commander advanced as close to the Autobot as he could, looking down on Prowl from his slight height advantage, and clicked curiously at the distraught look in the other mech's optics. 'Autobot… do you know why I try to usurp Megatron, no matter that I know what the punishment will be for failure afterwards?'

It was asked so seriously, not a trace of mockery in the Decepticon's optics or in the way he held his frame; that the tactician put it to his battle computer to puzzle out. The answer seemed obvious, that of the Decepticon wanting power, but it sounded too obvious for the complex mech in front of him…

Leaning casually against the unforgiving wall of the brig, wings floating lazily in the air behind him, Starscream waited with a raised optic ridge. Crossing his arms casually, he expertly masked the distress burning through his circuitry at having been confined so long.

It was one of Megatron's preferred methods of punishment after all.

Slowly Prowl walked up to the bars, admitting barely audibly, 'I don't know.'

'Yes you do.' Their faceplates were so close as to be almost touching, each feeling the breath of the other on their metal.

Shivering, Prowl looked away, not wanting the other to see his confusion or the vulnerability the Autobot SIC was sure was reflected in his sky-blue optics. None of the others, not even Jazz, ever saw this carefully shielded side of him and now he had flaunted it openly and thoughtlessly in front of one of the Autobot's most merciless enemies.

'Come now Prowl,' the flier's helm followed the Praxian's, searching out his counterpart's faceplates once again, 'you are an intelligent mech.'

The black and white mech suddenly moved, entering the cell beside Starscream's and settling into the seat there, indicating for the Decepticon to do the same. Chuckling softly, the Seeker dragged his seat across so he could sit opposite the other mech, allowing his wings to settle on the armrests behind his servos.

'Power is too obvious…' Prowl half-questioned, distracting himself and he hoped his enemy from the state he had been in when he entered.

Starscream grinned toothily, 'I won't deny it is a factor.'

'But not what you were driving at,' the tactician's optics narrowed in contemplation, processors beginning to calm. This was indeed a good diversion from his bewildering emotional turmoil. 'Your personal safety?'

'In a sense,' the flier began to play amusedly with his talons, silently grateful for the attention he had been denied since the interrogation after his capture. In truth, he was bored out of his processors trapped in there, and the sudden arrival of his enemy had thrilled him having wanted to get the tactician alone for a very long time.

He had always thought that their roles would be the reversal of how it was happening but it didn't matter, as long as he was given time to get his thoughts across to the only mech who could possibly understand his situation.

Prowl relaxed his rigid form back into his chair and his helm snapped up as several scenarios were provided by his memory banks, 'the way Megatron treats you?'

Starscream's optics flashed and his wings flapped for a moment but before he could answer, recognition dawned on Prowl's faceplates.

'No… not him or rather… not _just _him. The way your _faction _treats you.' The Praxian's spark twisted painfully in his chamber as he realised what Starscream had been referring to earlier.

_I don't know._

_Yes you do._

Starscream's optics had been filled with _knowing _and _understanding _when he'd been speaking…

'Being the second of either of our factions is a poisoned chalice,' a sombre expression claimed the Decepticon's faceplates, never leaving as he spoke, 'Megatron and Optimus get the credit when things go right. Megatron because the Decepticons fear and respect him and your Commander is beloved by all of your soldiers no matter how they hide it. We, on the other servo, are blamed completely and without appeal when things fall apart. Nothing is ever forgiven, nor forgotten. We are the most convenient and obvious targets do you see? It would be dangerous for the others to blame our dear leaders, but no harm comes to them for taking their frustrations and their losses out on us, their officers and their perfect scapegoats.'

For a few kliks Prowl feared he would overheat as his systems refused to ventilate.

'You see my dear Prowl; they can all hate us without fear, little consequence and _enjoyment. _We symbolise all that each of our factions despise and so they feel better when they vent their pain at us. No matter what we do for them, what we sacrifice, none of them will ever remember it even a moment later; much less thank us for it.'

The Praxian stared, unable to refute the Seeker's statements as much as he wanted to, recalling all the times where missions he had planned had been successful. Optimus got the credit from all of the troops for their victory, while the SIC was spoken about in hushed whispers, blamed for those they had lost.

He was seldom thanked or acknowledged and often even _criticised _for the function he fulfilled, accused of being a workaholic for wanting to keep his comrades alive but still somehow ultimately neglectful nonetheless. Slumping in on himself, twice as desolate as before as it struck deep into his spark that he would always be treated like that by his fellow Autobots, he closed his optics tight to cut off the fluid threatening to spill over.

Starscream watched his companion's silent crying for a klik before continuing, 'that is why I challenge him Autobot because, though I fear death at his servo, I hate living beneath his pede even more. I want the respect he and the others owe me and, one orn, I will call in their debt. And when I do…'

The tactician looked up at the pause and jumped to see the Seeker just on the other side of the bars, level with the Autobot's faceplates, the Decepticon leering openly at him.

'… you are more than welcome to join me.'

Prowl stood abruptly, chair skidding backwards harshly screeching on the metallic floor, before falling with a clang to the ground. The Autobot fled the brig, ignoring the hissed conversation of some of his comrades they thought he couldn't hear as he passed them, and headed for the base's main entrance.

Moments later, Jazz roared up behind him, following him until the SIC pulled over. Both transforming, the saboteur pulled the tactician into his arms and rocked him slowly until Prowl stopped trembling, and then gently urged him back to the Ark keeping an arm slung protectively over his friend's shoulders.

Escorting a docile Prowl to his own quarters, the saboteur pushed some high grade into the SIC's servos and eased the tactician into his berth when the cube was empty, before leaving his distraught friend to give him some privacy.

Clearly Prowl was exhausted and needed the rest.

Wandering down the corridors, the musician froze when he heard Red Alert and his Prime's voices in heated discussion coming towards him, ducking into a nearby storage closet to get out of the way.

'Red Alert,' the red and blue mech's legendary patience was seemingly beginning to thin, 'I am sure that Prowl is not a Decepticon.'

'But he spoke to Starscream without your knowledge and he was in there doing Primus knows what for more than half a cycle, and the audio was dead…'

Their voices trailed off into the distance but Jazz barely noticed, his anger having drowned out anything beyond the security officer's rambled mention of the Decepticon's name. Fists clenching tight, his visor flashed and he strode single-mindedly down to the cells, ignoring the greetings of the other mechs he passed until he reached the Air Commander's prison.

'What the _frag_ did you say to him?' He snarled at the relaxed Seeker, drops of energon falling to the floor where he was digging his digits into his strong metallic palms.

'I only informed him of some home truths,' Starscream didn't drop his gaze from the TIC's.

Jazz's fist slammed into the metal wall, flakes pouring down from the damage he inflicted, 'you ever go near him again, I'll rip your spark out.'

Outwardly unfazed Starscream smiled, cruelty dancing in his optics, at the Autobot. 'Perhaps your comrades are looking at the wrong mech.'

Glaring at the flier, the musician snarled and span on his pede, exiting the brig to the sound of the Decepticon's cackling.

* * *

A few orns later, Jazz walked into the brig smirking and deactivated the energy bars, stepping in to clamp stasis cuffs roughly onto Starscream's wrists, leading him out past the others to the designated meeting point that Megatron had agreed with Optimus.

The Warlord stood, alone as requested, to pick up his useless second-in-command, hoping vainly that Starscream would have learnt some humility from his little holiday with the Autobots.

_Ha!_

Punishments already swirling gleefully through his processor, Megatron stiffened when he saw a lone figure carrying something on the horizon.

Prime's TIC approached, Starscream's offline and battered frame slung over his shoulder, and dumped him like scrap into the Decepticon Lord's arms.

'I saved you the trouble,' Jazz smiled warmly, though his visor flickered dangerously, before he unsubspaced a bottle of shimmering liquid and laid it carefully in the Seeker's lap. 'Praxian elite high grade.'

Bemused, Megatron raised an optic ridge at the saboteur and nodded sharply, understanding what the Autobot was asking. 'What did he do?'

'He knows,' the musical mech was already walking away, a spring in his step.

Fangs glinting in a sudden grin, he turned and headed back to base, hiding the bottle in his own subspace before he came in sight of the others.

Dropping Starscream off in the medbay, no questions were asked of course, the tyrant headed off to his personal quarters to enjoy his unexpected little gift (after scanning it for any anomaly of course) in peace, knowing that his second would not be free to moan about how long his rescue took for at least a few more orns.

_Maybe… the next time I capture that Autobot I won't torture him… just dent his frame a little, yes._

Within half a cycle, the high grade being potent stuff, the Warlord was sat quite contentedly on his berth fantasising about past victories. Feeling the soft metal beneath his servo, his thoughts wandered to his second, musing that depending on Starscream's behaviour he might offer the flier in for a cube when he was better and… perhaps a little something more…

Sighing hotly through his vents, Megatron chuckled merrily, thinking how everything looks better when you were slightly overcharged.

Placing the still mostly full bottle away, the tyrant curled into his berth to pleasant dreams of fiery destruction and universal conquest.

* * *

Jazz returned to the Ark and headed to Prowl's office to check on his friend, being careful to bathe in a spring to get the Seeker's energon off his frame before he came into the territory of his comrade's patrols.

Entering the SIC's office, the musician's faceplates lit up in a spark-felt smile vowing again to make sure Prowl remembered he was valued by the Autobots, that most of them were grateful to him and would miss the security he afforded them and his calming presence.

Occasionally the security cameras would go dead or a connection on the line between them and Red Alert caused audio or visual to be lost, however this posed no issue to Jazz as he trusted Prowl's word implicitly and knew himself to be a good judge of character.

The SIC had simply told him that he was beginning to doubt his worth and place in the faction and Starscream's words had compounded his insecurities.

A few cycles later, as he pressed his lip components to the Praxian's and his engines purred, Jazz extended his promise to make Prowl feel not only valuable, but also _loved _as well.

* * *

_Hope you all enjoyed it and thanks for reading. _

_I'm open to continuing this, what do you guys think?_

_Please review- I'd love to hear what you think._


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